


The Letter

by EllieD113



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 02:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18111473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieD113/pseuds/EllieD113
Summary: In the aftermath of her gran’s trial, Valerie faces more backlash.





	The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: alludes to previous self-harm

She can’t say she isn’t expecting it. After all, the story has been in the papers, one of the bigger headlines in some time. She keeps waiting for the phone to ring, for someone to say her mum’s on the line, or Judith or Marilyn, asking, “Are you alright? How are you holding up?”

Instead, it’s a letter on her pillow, and it stops her in her tracks. So much so that Trixie runs right into the back of her.

”Valerie,” she says with a little laugh. “What’s the matter? Is there a mouse?”

”No,” Valerie whispers in reply. “Sorry.”

Suddenly the room stretches before her and crossing it seems as impossible as walking across the Atlantic.

”What’s that?” Trixie asks as Valerie reaches for the letter with trembling fingers.

“It’s a letter from my mum.”

“Oh.”

The word carries a magnitude of sudden understanding.

Valerie sinks onto the bed, unable to tear her eyes away from the address in June Dyer’s neat handwriting.

 _Nurse_ _Dyer_

Valerie lets out a bitter laugh. “She can’t even call me by name, you see that? Nurse Dyer. Nurse bloody Dyer.”

“Valerie,” Trixie murmurs.

“I can’t.” Valerie throws the letter and it skirts under the wardrobe. “I can’t read it, Trixie, because I already know what it says and I can’t.”

“Would you like me to?”

“I don’t care,” Valerie exhales, leaning forward to rest her head on her knees.

Slowly, Trixie crosses to the wardrobe and kneels to free the letter from its dusty confines. She doesn’t know whether to sit next to Valerie or not, and settles for sitting across from her instead. It pains her to see her friend overwhelmed with grief and fear, and it pains her to add to it.

Trixie slides her fingernail under the flap and it pops open gently, revealing the letter inside. It’s not long, only a page, and Trixie sends a silent praise to Heaven for that.

”Nurse Dyer,” she begins.

Val lets out a strangled little sound, face still buried in her knees.

”Seeing as how you was born and raised in Poplar, we all thought you’d have a better understanding of who’s side you’re supposed to be on. Just because you’re a nurse and a midwife doesn’t mean you can go running to the police on your family. Maybe it ain’t right what my mother did, but she’s still my mother and your grandmother, and she don’t belong in jail for helping women. How do you think we managed to get by after your dad ran out on us? Who do you think paid for your books and your clothes and helped you get through school when you decided you wanted to be a bloody midwife? You wouldn’t be nothin’ if it weren’t for your gran.

You’ve made your bed, now you can lie in it. You ain’t any daughter of mine, or sister neither. You turned your back on your family, so we’re turning our backs on you.”

Trixie decides to omit the last line - _rot_ _in_ _hell_ , _you_ _bloody_ _bitch_ \- and for a moment, there is only silence as Valerie’s shoulders begin to shake.

A keening wail escapes from her lips, and Trixie dives from the bed, catching Valerie as she collapses onto the floor.

Another loud cry, and she can hear footsteps on the stairs and in the hall, but her only focus is on Valerie as the woman sobs in her arms.

It’s Sister Julienne who appears, kneeling between the beds, face etched with concern.

“Nurse Franklin.”

Trixie shakes her head, motioning to the piece of paper still on the bed, and the older woman stands, disappearing from Trixie’s line of sight as she reads it. A few moments later, Trixie hears the door click shut and she sighs in relief.

She makes what she hopes are comforting sounds, rocking gently, as Valerie’s tears soak into her shirt. Her legs are going numb, and the bed frame is digging into her side, but Trixie cannot and will not be moved.

All Valerie knows is pain and grief. She doesn’t know how she is still crying, only that she can’t seem to stop, and it feels like someone has reached into her chest and taken hold of her heart. “It hurts,” she wails, “it hurts.”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” Trixie sighs. “Valerie, honey, Doctor Turner is here.”

“He is?”

She hadn’t heard him come in, hasn’t heard anything at all, and it surprises her into stopping crying.

”Good girl,” Trixie hums approvingly. “We were worried. You’ve been crying for some time.”

“I have?”

It’s an effort to open her eyes, and when she does, her heart sinks in embarrassment at the look of concern on Dr. Turner’s face.

“Nearly fifteen minutes,” he tells. “I was worried we would have to sedate you.”

“No.” Valerie shakes her head vehemently. “I won’t let you, I won’t. You-“

”It’s okay, Valerie. We won’t do it,” Dr. Turner assures her. “But I do think we need to get you into bed. Can I help you up?”

Valerie nods, and the doctor’s hands come around her forearms, hoisting her up as Trixie moves to support her. She’s eased onto the bed, and when Dr. Turner moves to help Trixie up, she’s alarmed to see the other woman’s legs nearly give out.

”Quite alright,” Trixie says smoothly. “Just a case of pins and needles.”

“Right.” Valerie nods, wiping her runny nose with the edge of her sleeve. It’s hardly dignified, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“I’m going to leave Nurse Franklin to help you into some pyjamas, and then I’ll be right back in.”

Valerie nods again. The pain is quickly being overcome by numbness, and she just wants to sleep.

”Come on then,” Trixie says softly. She undoes Valerie’s shoe laces first, and slides the loafers off her feet, leaving the socks on. Next, her shirt, and it breaks Trixie’s heart the way Valerie absently lifts her arms and allows Trixie to undress her, eyes and face locked in blankness.

“Do you want me to take off your bra?” Trixie asks, and Valerie shakes her head.

“No, I can do it.”

She reaches up, slipping the straps down her arms, and Trixie averts her eyes as Valerie snaps open the back and the garment falls away.

“Alright, sweetie,” Trixie soothes. “This on next.” The pyjama shirt goes swiftly over Valerie’s head. “Can you stand for me?”

Valerie obliges, and half helps Trixie remove her slacks before stepping into her pyjama pants. As much as Trixie has seen Valerie in various states of undress, she has never been this close to the other woman, and she cannot help but notice thin, white scars scattered across Valerie’s thighs.

Furrowing her brows, Trixie shoves down any inward curiosity, and stands as she brings the pants over Valerie’s hips. “There you are. Let’s get you settled.”

Covers pulled back, Valerie allows herself to be helped into bed, and she watches dully as Trixie crosses the room to allow Dr. Turner back in.

“Now Valerie, I said I wasn’t going to sedate you, but I am going to leave you with some mild sedatives in case you feel you need it. I don’t want you getting dehydrated, so drink plenty of water and let Trixie or someone else know if you start to feel any of the usual symptoms, alright?”

Nodding, Valerie murmurs, “Thank you.”

Trixie and Dr. Turner converse in hushed voices, but Valerie doesn’t care to hear what they’re saying. Curling up under the covers, she puts her back to the door, and when it opens and shuts, she thinks she might finally be alone.

 _You_ **_are_** _alone_ , the nasty thought reminds her. _Your_ _family_ _hates_ _you_ _and it’s only a matter of time before everyone else hates you, too._

But then a hand cards gently through her hair, and Valerie opens her eyes to see Trixie hovering over her.

“You didn’t go?”

Trixie shakes her head. “No, Valerie. I’m not leaving you. We will never leave you and we will never stop loving you.”

The declaration sends Valerie into soft tears, and Trixie hushes her gently. “Don’t cry, sweetie. Just sleep, alright?”

Valerie nods, and Trixie settles into the chair next to her bed.

Blinking slowly, Valerie wonders how she got so lucky to have a friend like Trixie, friends like all her coworkers. As she drifts away, Valerie knows it won’t be easy, but what Trixie says is true, and there is hope enough in that.

**Author's Note:**

> After watching season 8 (again), I was a little unsastisfied with the absence of Valerie’s mom. I thought, “Well, maybe she went to live with one of Valerie’s sisters elsewhere. In that case, how would she react to the news that Val helped put her grandma behind bars?” And this was born.


End file.
